


3 AM Thirst

by InfraVioletUltraRed



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-22
Updated: 2017-10-22
Packaged: 2019-01-21 11:14:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12456508
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InfraVioletUltraRed/pseuds/InfraVioletUltraRed
Summary: Reader goes to get a glass of water.





	3 AM Thirst

It was late, later than you should have been capable of being awake. But you were thirsty. So you had stalked out to the kitchen and were getting yourself a glass of water, looking out the window above the sink into the black sky as the water ran.

You shut off the tap and lifted the glass to your lips, taking big gulps of water. You paused drinking to take a deep breath, let it out, and finished the glass. You put it down on the counter and leaned your hands on the sink, sighing. It was late. So late, the time didn’t feel real. You shook your head. You needed to get back to bed.

You hadn’t been aware this entire time that your boyfriend had felt you get up, and padded along behind you to check on you. He’d hung back as you approached the sink, watching you in the dim light as you drank, and thought you looked even more stunning in the bleary-eyed haze you were both in.

And he had intended to get back into bed long before you even turned around, and fake having been asleep the entire time—or “waking” as you came back to bed—but alas. You whirled around to head for your room and before he could scamper off—

“Prom, what are you doing up?” The look on his face suggested only one thing: _caught._

“…making sure you were okay, I guess.”

Oh. That was sweet. You laughed a little, a gentle breath out of your nose that caught in your voice box for a moment, making a soft “mmph” as you smiled. You walked over to him in a slow, sleepy shuffle, wrapping your arms around his waist and ducking your head so it would rest against his chest, just under his chin. You felt him drop his chin a little onto the back of your head, and you let out a sigh.

You stayed like that a moment, all warmth on soft skin (he was only in his boxers; you weren’t in much more, a tank top and your underwear) and quiet breathing. You swayed a little, and he moved with you.

“Hey, Prompto?” You were a little more awake now, enough to use his full name.

“Hmm?”

“You okay to keep standing? You’re rocking a little.”

“Hm? Oh yeah, I did that on purpose.”

“Why? Rock me to sleep?”

He laughed. “No.” He took one of your hands, holding it so your fingers draped over the web of his thumb. “For this.”

And so you stood like that, in a tightly wound-together and leaning on each other ballroom position, swaying like leaves in a light breeze, in the laziest slow dance imaginable. It was so comfortable, you _could_ almost fall asleep like this, lulled by the rocking, the creak of the floorboards, and the gentle, steady thud of Prompto’s heartbeat in your ear.

Your eyes began to droop, and you yawned. Apparently, this was the cue that the moment was over, the carriage was about to become a pumpkin again.  You two separated yourselves from each other. That is, your hands stayed clasped, but you no longer supported each other’s weight, and through the dark and at a snail’s pace, Prompto led you back to bed, where you curled into each other again and fell deeply, sweetly asleep. Thirst quenched.


End file.
